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_ Chapter 2 _

_ An Empty Home _

(Gareth)

_ The Caprian Tales _

By Matthew Courtney (Barta)

"The United Races cast down the rulers of Earth Forsaken,

and from the ashes rose peace and prosperity,

for we were free and so alive.

And with fusion came the light of a new dawn, the awakened sought New Gaia with the Vessels of the Stars, for their puppeters' strings had been cut..."

I've never liked studying for history, all these far fetched tales of planets lost and forgotten, of Earth Forsaken and the Cruel Corrupters. The United Races deems it necessary though, for some odd reason I cannot fathom, to make these classes and textbooks mandatory. Which means an extra few pounds for any young Catin to lug around, steeped in our ways of long protecting the physical manuscript. Most races don't bother with physical copies, convience trumps instinct and culture, especially on a newly established planet like Caprian Eleven.

I stood infront of the mirror in my bedroom, small mounds of clothing piled at either side as I slowly placed my hands all about my form....Thin, lanky, just a bundle of twigs with a few strings of meat attached....I wasn't exactly the catch of the day. There were deep bags underneath those slitted emerald eyes, a wetness clung to them and I felt about twice as old as I looked....maybe I looked it to others in that case. There were a few locks of silver in the front of my mane, which had once been a deep and beautiful violet...and my pelt was now haggard and roughed. I'd gone through nearly all my things twice, no three times....And there wasn't anything I'd have worn on the capital of Ibiss Seven that was even moderately acceptable here. I felt out of my element, I had since the day I'd come here....Thrust into a cohort that didn't want me, nor probably even understand me....I was still having trouble with the local dialect. "Maybe I just shouldn't go; I didn't even get his name..." Said a voice to the darkness, the still darkness that was my room, and my house.

Eventually I found myself in the kitchen, in nothing but silken leggings, traditional stark white with loose and billowing bottoms. There was a large garbage bag full of spats, courtroom clothing, and all the other useless things I'd tracked through the stars and space from one planet to another. A discarded pen sat beside the family notepad, a message scratched down to excuse myself and remind my parents I needed to go shopping for more clothing, I used the excuse that I'd grown too much for my current digs. That's a straight out lie, I've not grown since I started Symbological Academy, since my first implant surgery. In fact, I'm one of the shortest people in my age group.

As I stepped past the threshold and out into the night air a pleased groan left my lips, my pelt shuddered and muscles writhed and twitched underneath. The fresh and crisp night air flooding my nostrils as hairs stood on end, the world was so alive around me. No more dank and cramped apartment, with it's soft darkness and luminescent lights, suited for one so weary and old, for eyes not used to the light of day. My gaze flickered rapidly all about, checking every corner, catching the millions of millions of motions all about...People going about their lives in the bastion that was the Catin district, so alive with the neon hum and the bustle of people cramped about and transversing from small living container to small living container. The various levels and ways connected to one another, like a veritable web of paper lanterns, rope bridges, and small shafts and ladders.

The smells soon assail my nostrils, and the glorious noise fills my ears as I return to my element that I once felt had forsaken me. Curry and spice, rich and pungent permeates the atmosphere and soon floods my senses. Colors dance about me, so vibrant and vivid one must shut the eye or risk blinding by the brilliance of life....And the noise of hustle and bustle, of shops with their ringing and bellowing, of singing and revelry soon ricochets about me ears. I am thrumming, my body feels as if it is vibrating with the energy and every molecule wishes to scream out in blissful ecstasy.

I set off at breakneck pace, my body suddenly so alive as I launched myself upon the nearest bridge and vaulted over the edge...The world rushed past with so much wind and I was descending with glee before my hand caught one of the lantern lines. Swinging and dropping, sliding and launching, I whirled and twirled, I zip and I dip....I glide gracefully and the world seems to stop around me, halting to watch my dance about the causeways and lines, as I descend further and further into the beast that is my home. To come landing firmly in a roll upon the pavement far below, my descent fractions of a second to that of the elevators that rumble along the sides....gilded in a gaudy gold. And I am not the only one, every once in awhile from on high a Catin seems to spring, and glide, and slowly make his way to the ground...like a leaf upon the wind. If there is one thing I enjoy, it is this....The bus is only a few blocks away, I should be there on time.